A Long and Bumpy Road
by omalleyanatomy26
Summary: Dean and Sam gets into a car accident. Dean makes it out with just a scratch but Sam is seriously hurt and could possibly never walk again. Dean is torn with guilt and determined to do whatever it takes to help Sam. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! UPDATED!
1. Chapter 1

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I know I have a tone of stories out there, but I just can't stop writing them :) SN fanfics are as addicting as the show, to me. And I just like hurt Sam and protective Dean so darn much. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten my other stories! :)

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Dean still blamed himself. He should have seen the car coming. But he didn't. He was too busy singing to a song on the radio.

Now because of it his brother was pratically in a coma. He kept on hearing the words

_"Possible paralyses" _over and over again.

His throat closed when he looked at Sam sleeping so peacefully in the hospital bed. So unaware of the trials that laid ahead of him. Unaware that he might never walk again. Dean gripped Sammy's hand.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy," he whispered, brushing the tears from his eyes. "It should be me that's like this. Not you. It's not your fault. It's mine."

He jumped when Bobby knocked as he entered.

"How is he?" Bobby asked gruffly. Dean sniffed, and wiped the tears from his eyes quickly.

"Still sleeping," he mumbled. Bobby nodded.

"Dean-"

"Don't say it," snapped Dean. "It's my fault and nothing you say will change my mind."

"The other driver was drunk!" Bobby shot back. "It was clearly his fault, not yours."

"Doesn't matter. I wasn't paying attention. For a second I turned my head and now this happened before of it. Because of my carelessnes Sammy nearly got killed. Bobby stared at him.

"Are you sure that's you talking, or your father?" He asked gently and Dean stiffened at that remark.

"Don't know what you mean," he muttered as he stared at Sam's body.

Bobby decided not to push the subject. Slowly he nodded.

"I'm going to the cafeteria to get something to eat, you want anything?"

"Not hungry."

"You should eat-"

"NOT HUNGRY!" Dean didn't take his eyes off his brother as he spoke. Bobby nodded.

"You should get some rest soon," he said slowly. "I'll be back."

Dean barely nodded as he stared at Sam's face, guilt ripping him apart. He swore as Sam slept that he would never be so reckless again. He wouldn't put his brother's life at risk like that a second time around.

He was determined to do whatever it takes to keep his brother safe.

No matter what..

**Short but I'll put a lot in the next chapter if I get enough reviews! So um, please review! Yes, I'm begging. Pathetic, I know, lol. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I've decided to update some of my more older stories :)

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Dean just sat there as he stared at his beaten up looking brother. It was still his fault. Nothing anyone would say to him would change his mind. Than he had gotten the news that possible paralizes was becoming more and more perminate. It was more and more likely that Sam would never walk again. And that would be completly Dean's fault.

He should have saw the car coming. Even if the driver was drunk, he still should have swerved in time. He still should have done _something _to have protected his little brother. After all, that was his job, right? To protect Sammy, no matter what. And he failed. He failed like he always did. Angrily he hit his fist against the nightstand that was next to the hospital bed.

Sam moved as he felt his bed shake. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light and to his surroundings.

"Where am I?" He saw Dean sitting next to his bed. The door was closed but he saw that the room looked like a hospital room. Dean looked up sharply.

"Sammy? Thank God," he breathed. He grabbed Sam's hand gently. It was covered in tape and tubes. Sam repeated his question, even though he knew the answer. What he really wanted to know was _why_.

"You're in a hospital, Sammy." Dean's voice shook as he spoke. "There was a car...a car accident..."

Sam suddenly remembered in flashes.

_"Dean look out!" The truck came blazing on the wrong and, hitting them sharply on the side. Before they could react the car rolled down the hill. The other truck rolled down after them._

Sam remembered thinking that they were going to die too. Dean also remembered it, but remembered other things to.

_"Sammy? Sam!" He woke, caughing. His head was bleeding, but he didn't care. He stared in horror at Sam. Sam's body was slumped down, his head hanging to his shoulder. A tree branch had broken through the window, crushing Sam's legs. He looked stuck. Dean tried to pull his brother out but it was no use. He had to call 911. As he waited he was sure Sammy was dead. He was sure that he had killed his brother._

"A tree branch broke into the glass," Dean was continuing to say. "It crushed your legs, Sammy and..." His voice trailed off. He didn't have the heart to tell his brother. But he had no choice.

"And _what _Dean?" Sam pressed nervously. He didn't like that serious tone that Dean was using. Dean cleared his throat.

'The doctors are saying that...that you probably won't walk Sammy. There's a good... a really good chance that you're gonna be..." He couldn't say it. He just couldn't bring himself to say it.

Sam closed his eyes.

"Paralyzed?"

Dean nodded miserably. Sam sighed and bit his lip. How does one react to something like this? He would probably never walk again. The idea seemed impossible to him.

"I can't walk?" He said softly. "At all?" He was still in shock about what he had just heard.

"No," Dean mumbled. "No, you can't." He had tears in his eyes. "Sammy, I'm so sorry."

"For what?" The agony of not being able to walk was brushed aside as Sam blinked in utter surprisment. "Why are you sorry?"

"I shoulda been watching the road more carefully...I shoulda...shoulda done _something _to save you. That's my job, after all. To...to save you. And I failed, and I'm so sorry Sammy. So sorry." With that he let the tears run down his face. Sam closed his eyes. He knew how easily his brother blamed himself for everything that went wrong. The low self esteem Dean had for himself. And Sam hated it. He didn't know how to convince Dean he was more worthwhile than Dean thought he was. But Dean was pretty stubborn. All the Winchesters were. It was what brought them together and also what tore them apart.

Sam sighed.

"It's not your fault," he said stubboringly. Dean shook his head, equally stubborn.

"That's what Bobby said-"

"Smart man."

"But it doesn't matter. I know the truth. One of dad's last words to me was to look after you. To protect you."

"Yeah, he also said to kill me," Sam snapped. "Just because dad says something, doesn't mean you should do it, Dean."

"I shouldn't look after you?" Dean looked confused, but also hurt at those harsh words. Sam sighed.

"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying that you shouldn't do things just because _dad _told you to do them."

"I know. I don't look after you _just _because of that. It's just my job. Dad never had to do tell me that. I wanted to protect you from the moment that mom brought you home from the hospital. I was only 4, but it was insitnct."

"Well you still shouldn't blame yourself for everything," Sam said. "Because you're strill afraid of losing dad's approval."

"Dad's dead, his approval means nothing now," Dean snapped.

"You're wrong, Dean. It still means everything to you. Don't lie. You still beat yourself up when things go wrong, because you think dad would have yelled at you for it. So you yell at yourself, since he can't."

Dean couldn't deny that.

"And you don't think you belong here, cause he sold his soul to save you. And you were pratically dead when he did it. That makes you feel eve more worthless," Sam added.

Dean gave a faint smile.

"You know me pretty well, huh?" He said softly. Sam didn't blink, or change his tone, or the seriousness of the discussion. He had enough of Dean blaming himself.

"It's not healthy, what you're doing," he continued. Dean sighed.

"You're the one who's injured here and lecturing me on my health?" He smiled at that.

"It's about time someone lectured you about this," Sam said rather stiffly. "I'm tired of you blaming yourself for everything, Dean, and honestly this does keep my mind of this...situation. Worrying about you stops me from thinking about..."

"You?" Dean asked. "Yeah, I know. That's easy to do. I guess I'm doing it right now, too." He shook his head. "And I understand what you're saying, Sammy, but it's still my fault you're in here. Nothing's going to change my mind about that. And if you're going to have to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life, I'm never gonna forgive myself. Ever. And nothing anyone says is going to change my mind."

Sam sighed, knowing it was pointless. There was a million things he wanted to say to Dean. He hated how Dean had put their father on a pedastol. How John could _never _be wrong, and yet Dean always could. And always was. Even after John's death. While Sam's opinion changed on his father when he sacrificed his soul for Dean, he still saw the imperfections in him that was blinded by Dean. And that blindness shaped Dean's personality, the way he thought about himself. How he always blamed himself.

Sure, Sammy hated the idea of being paralized. Of being helpless, not being able to hunt. He was still in shock at that diagonstic, but right now even though he knew he was in the hospital he also realized that his brother was the one needed to be taken care of. At this very moment, anyway.

Bobby came in, than, breaking the ice.

"Sam!" His eyes widened in pleasent surprisment. "You're awake."

"And already on my case," Dean added, sitting up. Bobby frowned.

"About what?"

Dean shifted uncomfortable.

"About blaming myself," he mumbled. Bobby nodded.

"You should listen to your brother," Bobby said, sitting down on another chair. "The kid went to Stanford. He knows what he's talking about."

"Hey, hey, hey!" Dean straightened himself. "Sammy's the one who's paralized here. Why are you all gaining up on me all of a sudden?"

Bobby stiffened as that.

"You heard?" He asked Sam softly who nodded rather weakly.

"Dean says I probably won't walk ever again, so that means I'll probably be in a wheelchair?"

Bobby nodded slowly.

"I've been talking to your doctor, he's out for lunch right now," he said softly. "But it's looking more and more perminate."

The reality of the situation came running back to Sam. He had managed to distract himself through worrying about Dean, but now it had come knocking again. It wouldn't leave him alone. He couldn't avoid it. _He was paralized. Probably forever. Wheelchair bound. No more hunting._

"I g..guess that this is early retirment?" Sam said slowly. "For hunting that is."

Dean instantly noticed the tremble in his brother's voice as he glanced at Bobby, who was unsure of what to say.

"Well you won't be _completly _useless," he said in encouragment. "I still suck at research, and at the compture. You know that. I'll still need you to do all of the studying up for the new monsters and whatnot."

"You mean do the grunt work?" Sam asked, pretending to be bitter. While it didn't really help he knew Dean was trying to help and that, well helped more than the sugestion did.

"I didn't mean that..." Dean stammed and Sam raised his hand slowly.

"It's all right, Dean. I understand what you're doing. It's not the same but...thanks." He suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"What is it?" Just like Sam could read Dean like a book, it was the same visa versa.

"I....I have to use the restroom." Sam felt like a little kid when he said that. He _really _didn't want to use a bedpan. Bobby instantly flagged a nurse down who took over a wheelchair for him. Dean said that once they were in the bathroom he could carry Sammy to the toilet. Sam's face flushed as a wave of humiliation hit him. Dean gripped Sam's shoulders for comfort as the nurse unplugged the wires sticking all over Sam's arms and chest.

Than Dean and Bobby lifted Sam up and sat him down on the wheelchair. Sam stiffened as they did so. He knew he had to get used to this feeling. He felt the hardness and coldness from the wheelchair. Was he going to constantly have to sit like this for the rest of his life? More than ever the reality of the situation was hitting a home run. It was becoming more and more clear.

_Paralyzed forever. Never able to walk again. No more hunting. Perminatly useless._

Sam made it clear he wanted to push himself to the bathroom. He could move his arms, after all. Quickly he did so, feeling his brother's presence from behind him. It comforted him to know he was not alone, yet he hated the fact that he couldn't go to the bathroom by himself.

His face flushed again, a darker shade of red when Dean picked him up and carried him to the toilet. Dean made it quick, knowing how humiliating this must be for his brother. Than Dean turned around as Sam pushed down his pants himself. Dean whistled and hummed until Sam finished. Than he quickly carried Sam back to the wheelchair.

"This is what it's going to be like from now on, isn't it?" Sam asked, bitterness in his voice. The bitterness threw Dean back a bit. He wasn't sure how to answer. "I can't even go take a shit by myself," Sam muttered darkly. Dean wasn't used to hearing Sam swear. But he knew it was part of Sam's way of venting. Of taking some independence back to himself.

That just made the guilt Dean had buried inside of him resurface even more.

"Things'll get better," he promised, though he knew that was probably false. Sam knew it too. They were already out of the bathroom.

"How are you sure?" Sam asked sharply. Bobby frowned, unsure they were talking about.

"I'm not," Dean admitted. "They just...have to be." He helped Bobby and the nurse put Sam back to the bed and hook him to the machines.

"Maybe it's best that the patient had some rest," the nurse suggested. Dean looked at Sam.

"Is that okay, buddy?"

Sam shrugged, the humilation from the bathroom incident still very vivid in his mind. Dean squeezed his shoulder before leaving and Bobby patted Sam's arm as they left the room.

Dean sighed as he put his hands over his face while sitting down on a nearby chair. Bobby sat down next to him.

"I know it's not easy, seeing him like this Dean. But it's still not your-"

"Don't say it," Dean snapped. "Don't say it, Bobby. I'm not in the mood."

Bobby shut his mouth, knowing that the last thing Dean needed was a lecture. He sighed instead.

Dean closed his eyes, picturing Sam in the wheelchair. Sam's questions still lingered in his mind.

Was this what it was going to be like, from now on? Will Sam ever be healed again? Can he ever hunt?

Will life _ever _return to normal for the Winchesters? One thing was for certain, this recovery was going to be _far _from easy.

**This is a nice long one to make up for the lack of updates. Should I still continue?**


	3. Chapter 3

**I feel bad for not updating some of my more older fics so yeah, I'm doing some of that now :)

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For the next couple of weeks Dean got to know the hospital pretty well. He got used to pushing Sam in a wheelchair too, but he never got used to seeing him so helpless. Sam hated the hospital, hated his new life. Hated his retirment. he hated feeling useless. He knew he could still do research but, _still _he couldn't have Dean's back when Dean went on hunts. What if a group of demons attacked his brother? How was he going to help Dean with something like that?

He shook his head. More and more he was feeling that he was causing more trouble than good. More and more he was thinking that Dean would be better off without him. His thoughts were inturrupted by Dean who walked into the room while grinning.

"What makes you so chipper in the morning?" Sam replied, somewhat more sullenly than he intended too.

"I just talked to your doctor," Dean told him. "They say that you're fit to leave."

Sam frowned.

"But I'm paralized," he said, stating that like it was the most obvious thing ever. Dean frowned back.

"Yeah, but man hundreds of people live their lives out in wheelchairs. You don't see them in the hospital."

"I guess you're right," Sam sighed. Dean looked puzzled.

"Dude, I thought you'd be happier than this, what gives?"

"I am happy," Sam assured him. Dean snorted.

"You sure have a funny way of showing it."

Sam sighed.

"Sorry, the news just took me by surprise. That's all." He smiled at Dean. "I'm happy, I really am."

Dean gave Sam a look.

"Right," he said, deciding to let that one slide.

"So," Sam said while sitting up. "When do I get to leave this joint?"

"Later this morning," Dean said. "Bobby's coming in his truck. He'll put your wheel chair in the back of it for now."

Sam frowned, yet another problem.

"We're going to have to find a way to put it in the backseat," he said. "Without blocking your view. There's no room in the trunk."

Dean scoffed at that worry.

"Don't worry about it, we'll find a way to take care of it."

Sam nodded, feeling more and more like a burden.

"Look," Dean told him. "I'm gonna leave for a few hours to get our stuff together all right? Than I'll be back and get you out of this hell hole."

Sam flashed him the best fake smile he could. Dean believed it to be real. He helped dress Sam, something Sam _hated, _and left.

Not long after Sam grabbed his wallet and stuffed it in his pants. He was glad to be dressed for a change. He waved for a nurse to help in in a wheelchair.

"I thought your brother's coming to pick you up," she said, while frowning, when he asked to be pushed outside.

"Yeah," Sam said, a little anxiously. He never liked lying. "But I'd like to wait out in the sun." The nurse nodded, and smiled.

"Well here," she said, handing him his bag. "You wouldn't want to forget this."

Sam clutched it.

"No," he said. "I wouldn't."

When she pushed him down to the sidewalk and he asked to be left in private he saw a bus stop a few blocks away. Relieved to see everything working out, that he wouldn't be a burden anymore; that he wouldn't further Dean's guilt, he pushed himself towards the station.

When Dean returned he was horrified when the baffled nurse told him what Sam had assured her. Paniced he raced outside and shouted Sam's name.

"Sammy?" He rushed back into his brother's room,. There he found a piece of paper on the table.

_I'm sorry Dean, i didn't want to be a burden to you anymore. This is for the best. Trust me. Don't come looking for me. I can take care of myself. Now you can take care of yourself for a change._

_Love, Sam_

He crumpled Sam's note. His brother was alone and in a wheelchair. Completly helpless.

"Damn it!"

**TBC**

**But only if you still want me too!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Just like I promised, I'm updating some of my older fics today! I couldn't Sunday like I was planning to-you all know why :(

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Sam stared at the motel room that he had just finished paying for. Riding the Greyhound was hell for him, the bus driver had to pratically do everything for him. Doubts crept into his mind about leaving Dean, but he was sure it was better than putting his brother in danger because of his inability to help anymore. He stared at the bottle of beer he had gotten at the nearby gas mart. He stared at it. He wasn't much of a drinker, but now seemed like the time for it. He was paralizzed and he had left his brother. He did it to protect Dean, so Dean wouldn't get hurt by trying to protect _him_, but it still hurt like hell.

Quickly Sam took a swig at the beer, feeling slightly guilty for abandoning Dean like this. But it was for the best....wasn't it?

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"He WHAT?!" Bobby shouted when Dean told him what was going on. Bobby shook his head. "The damn kid's an idjit," he muttered. "I can't believe he'd be dumb enough to do that."

"And I can't believe I was dumb enough not to see it happening," Dean muttered. "After all I know how his mind works. He left because he's trying to protect me. He's feeling more like a burden than help."

Bobby rubbed his forehead.

"Got any idea where he went?"

Dean shook his head.

"No."

"This is just _great_!" Roared Bobby and Dean took out his cell.

"I'll try calling him again," he mumbled.

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Sam stared at the phone.

_Stop calling me Dean! I'm doing this for you, don't you get it?! _

He silently screamed at the phone. He turned it off and pushed his wheelchair outside and headed towards the nearest bar.

It was dark when he pushed himself out. He felt guilty for the panic that he was causing Dean but he forced that thought out. He tensed as he heard voices.

"Well, well what do we have here?" He found himself surrounded by a group of drunks. He froze and licked his lips nervously. He had no way of defending himself. He was completly helpless.

"Got any money?" One of them sneered. He shook his head.

"No...I don't...please..."

"Now how come I don't believe me?" One of them asked. "I mean you came from the bar, you gotta have something right?"

"There's a toll for crossing this sidewalk," added the other. "If you don't have money you're gonna have to pay with something else. Like those shoes. "

"And that wheelchair," another laughed.

"Please...I'm sorry I don't have any money..."Sam started to beg but it was too late. Quickly they jumped him and dumped him onto the ground, helpless and paralized as the carried the wheelchair away while laughing and whooping.

His last thought as he passed out, other than that it was getting colder, was that Dean would find him before it was too late...

**_Should I still continue even though it's short?_**


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